


motivational action

by Val Mora (valmora)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fic of Fic, M/M, PWP, Rimming, Running, Short Shorts, one-upmanship as flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 14:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3899038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valmora/pseuds/Val%20Mora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Normally take five laps, huh?" Bucky says to him, somewhere around lap six and a half.</p>
            </blockquote>





	motivational action

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Motivational Fashion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3739177) by [eclecticxdetour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclecticxdetour/pseuds/eclecticxdetour). 



> Yesterday I read eclecticxdetour's "Motivational Fashion," and spent the entire thing going _but where is the rimming???_ with disturbing intensity, so I messaged them. They very kindly, if perhaps somewhat bemusedly, gave permission for me to write fic of their fic. 
> 
> So I did.

"Normally take five laps, huh?" Bucky says to him, somewhere around lap six and a half.

Steve slows, turning a little so Bucky can hear him. "Madison - you know, Bruce's lab assistant - she swears by hot yoga, and this is sort of like that."

Bucky swats him on the shoulder. "Asshole," he says, before it occurs to him to say instead, "You didn't need to go to all this effort just 'cause I'm here."

"Thought you were just gonna let yourself watch me and not think about the run." Steve's grin is huge, challenging, and there's sweat sliding down his collarbone. His skin gleams all over.

Bucky can't quite fight off an answering smile. "Managed that for four laps. Sure ain't four laps anymore." 

"Can't handle a simple workout? Even with this kinda prize at the end?"

He's such a sap it works on him even when he knows what Steve's doing. He catches Steve's arm, stops running, and turns Steve around while dragging him close, until they're pressed together there on the sidewalk. Steve's chest is heaving, just like Bucky's, and his hands are trembling faintly on Bucky's biceps from the exertion.

"Ain't a prize if it's mine all the time, no matter how special it is," Bucky says. "What're you offering?" He leaves his hands on Steve's waist but slides his thumbs along his hipbones, under his shorts and – oh, hello, jockstrap. 

"Nothing you're not thinking." Steve's voice is low. "But first you'll have to finish the run."

"Yeah?" Another dragging touch, a little more pressure. He's going to leave bruises here, later, once he gets his hands and mouth on Steve for real.

"If you can't keep up with me out here, don't know how you'll keep up with me in bed." Steve smirks as he drags Bucky in a little tighter.

Bucky kisses him, hard and devouring, letting his hands slip down to curve over Steve's barely-covered ass. Doesn't squeeze, or at least not much, just lets the kiss do all the work of messing Steve up, mouths open and hot-wet.

They part, eventually, both breathing hard. Someone walking to the bus stop wolf-whistles, and Steve flushes even deeper.

"I take it back," Bucky manages, into Steve's jaw. "Don't know what I did to win, but this is a prize."

Steve presses a lingering kiss to his temple. "Me too," he says, quiet, the hand curved at the back of Bucky's neck too-warm and still welcome. A breath, two, shared between them, and then Steve rattles off, "Catch up and you can have it!" before darting away, running at full speed again.

What an _asshole_. Bucky, getting on about half-hard and his muscles starting to cool down, doesn't waste the breath on swearing out loud and goes after him.

 

Bucky could probably swim in his own sweat, at this point. It's disgusting. The apartment, which they keep warm anyway, is only a little less humid than outside.

Steve lies down on the hardwood living room floor, probably leaving sweat-smears, and toes his socks off.

Bucky finishes getting his shoes off and lies down next to him, which is vastly inferior because this means he's half on the rug, which itches.

"This is disgusting," Bucky says. 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "Feels good, though."

Bucky presses his cheek against the cool wood and tries not to think about his calves sliding on the floor. "I'm going to take a cold shower as soon as I can get up."

"Mm." Steve's skin squeaks against the wood as he rolls onto his side, propping himself up with one foot laid flat on the floor. His inner thigh is a long swath of skin, and there's a hint of white cloth where his shorts ride up. Blue shorts, white jockstrap, red dick. Pretty patriotic, if you ask him. "More important, though, is can you get it up?"

"You – " Bucky starts, outraged, and shoves Steve facedown laughing on the floor before dragging himself up enough to kneel between Steve's spread thighs. " _Can you get it up_ , he asks. I can't believe it." 

"Thought it'd be better to check, since you were complaining you were tired." He's got his head pillowed on his crossed arms, all settled in and grinning smugly like if someone's getting lube it's not him and he's just gonna lie there and let Bucky do all the work.

"It's not hard to get you off," Bucky scoffs. "Bet I can do it in five minutes." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Can't even get _in_ me in five minutes," Steve says, and grinds down on the floor, which is pretty stupid – Bucky's been there – but looks good, muscles in his back and ass and thighs flexing.

"Don't need to," Bucky says, and tugs on the waistband of those tiny little shorts. "Off." 

"You do it. Five minutes, starting…" 

Bucky drags them down enough to get one leg off, admittedly with Steve's help. They slide onto the floor one leg on and one leg off, but he leaves it.

"Now," Steve says, right before Bucky yanks him onto his hands and knees, sits himself down between Steve's wide-spread thighs, and licks him.

"Fuck." 

Bucky grins, biting gently at one cheek. "Toldja." Licks him again, slower, lingering, then kisses his perineum, draws up spit in his mouth so the next pass leaves Steve wet with more than just his own sweat. His skin tastes salty and smells hotly of his dick. Bucky presses a little harder, uses his hand to spread Steve a little further. 

Steve makes a happy, breathy noise, and relaxes into Bucky's other arm around his hips. Bucky's gonna have to touch him to make the time limit, but he'd have to touch him at some point anyway to get him off, so that's nothing to be sorry for. 

He spends a good minute just on Steve's rim, getting him slickly wet and a little loosened up, until Steve drops from his hands onto his elbows and says, a little shaky, "In – you can – in."

"Who says I wanna?" He kisses him again, then licks once more, without the pressure that would make Steve open.

"You wanna." Steve pushes back against his mouth, trying for more, and Bucky pulls away. "Way you wish it was your come dripping outta me – "

Bucky pushes his tongue in just to shut Steve up. It works. Problem is, he's not wrong, even if Steve likes it just as much as Bucky does. It's nice, though, just tasting and smelling Steve, instead of it all being his own. 

"Yeah, like that," Steve mumbles, and groans when Bucky pulls away to drag his jockstrap down. At least he helps get it off this time too.

The jockstrap is damp with sweat and Steve's precome. It's disgusting. Bucky loves it: Steve naked from the waist down, tank top rucked up, skin flushed the length of his back, legs spread waiting for Bucky to help him finish.

"Touch yourself," Bucky says, and goes back to work. Steve makes a high, hot noise and fumbles for his dick before beginning to stroke. He rocks into his own touch, muscles flexing, and Bucky has to grab his hips and hold him still to keep from slipping away or hurting one of them.

Steve likes that, too, judging by the gasp he lets out, and Bucky digs his fingers in a little harder. Pushes a little deeper. 

It takes four and a half minutes, by Bucky's internal count. He's achingly hard by then, and Steve comes on a gloriously loud moan, shivering under Bucky's mouth and hands.

When Bucky lets go of his hips, Steve collapses into the puddle of his own come on the floor, then makes a disgusted noise and rolls away onto his back.

Bucky hands him his shorts from where they ended up after slipping off Steve's leg.

"Thanks." Steve's voice is slow and happy. He wipes most of the mess up. "Five minutes, ten seconds."

"Four thirty."

"Five ten. I checked my watch."

"You waited forty seconds because you were cleaning up!"

"No, I didn't." He's grinning, still flushed, hair a mess, sweat half-dry on his skin. 

Bucky kisses his smug, beautiful mouth, swats his thigh, and goes to get the lube. "Fine. Ten from getting in you, and this time I'm gonna have a stopwatch."

"That'll be the day," Steve says lazily.


End file.
